


Blue Velvet (Shattered Hearts)

by sebasent



Series: Rayleigh Scattering [2]
Category: The Flash (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Background Relationships, Canonical Character Death, Dialogue Heavy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I told myself i would not write a sequel, M/M, Soulmate AU, Weddings, drabble-ish, this is proof i am a master liar, wedding eloping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 11:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7048012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebasent/pseuds/sebasent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Barry-"</p><p>"Uh, Len-"</p><p>This is really not going according to plan, Barry thinks. for the most important moment on his life he surely is three seconds from puking.</p><p>Oh well. <em>Godspeed.</em></p><p>“Oh, sorry.” Len frowns down at him. “Why are you on the ground?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Velvet (Shattered Hearts)

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a while, but i finally finished watching LoT/the Flash and I have so.. many.. FEELINGS..  
> Can be read as a standalone, but I suggest you read [**this**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5449694) first.
> 
> be aware: this doesn't follow any specific episodes during season 2, but it does consider LoT as a time-travel event that could last years or seconds, depending on when they come back. I say they left and 'came back' around a week after, and this maybe, _tentatively_ takes place between episodes 7 and 10. Time travel is weird. (You can message me on my [tumblr blog](http://coolerthan0k.tumblr.com) if you want to talk more about this, maybe!)
> 
>  
> 
> **A quick catch-up if you don't want to read the other fic: This is an AU where you cannot see colour until you meet your soulmate. ******
> 
> **  
> **  
> **Enjoy!**  
> 

**xxxx.**

 

Barry wakes up slowly. This is just the way it has always been and perhaps the only thing that _hasn’t_ changed over the past three years, and most likely never will. He wakes slowly to sunlight in his eyes and hands caressing his hair, lips pressed against his neck and a warm body beside his.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he feels Len’s lips tickle his skin when he talks, and his breath is comfortably warm against his sleep-soft skin. 

“…oh my god, Len.”

 

**ixxxx.**

 

“I couldn’t help but notice a pretty… interesting thing the other day.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. wanna know what it is?”

“No.”

“Your criminal record is suspiciously empty as of late-”

“I said I don’t want to hear about it, Lisa.” 

“Oh, Lenny, just accept it! You’re going _good!”_

_“Shut the fuck-”_

“Your adorable soulmate is taking your evil away-”

“Lisa!”

 

**xxxviii.**

 

"I met your father, once," Len tells him.

"Really?" Barry asks. He'd suspected, but he never knew for sure. 

"Yes. I owe him my life."

 

**xxxvii.**

 

"Allen. You got that case I asked for done yet?"

"Ah! Yes! It's that red folder over there, if you could just take it."

"Thanks." 

"Sure, Director." 

Barry turns back to his work, but before he can start typing again he hears Director Singh’s footsteps pause.

“Uh, do you need anything else, Director?”

"I didn't know you'd found your soulmate, Allen." 

Barry turns around so fast his fingers crackle. He panics, but then remembers- the red folder. 

Of course. 

"Oh, yeah." 

"Hm. Congratulations. She’s a lucky gal." The Director makes to leave. 

"T-Thank you, director! I’d say I’m the lucky one, really. He’s- he’s amazing." 

“He? I didn’t know you were gay.” 

“I’m- bisexual, actually.”

“Huh. That’s great. Congrats, son.”

“Thanks!”

 

**xxxvi.**

 

"I don’t trust this Garrick person."

"You don’t trust anyone, Len."

 

**xxxv.**

 

“Len!” 

"Barry.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Peachy.”

“Len? What are you-”

“Why the fuck you calling me Len, kid?” 

“What?” 

Barry feels his heart begin to break, but before he can do anything, a third voice joins them. “What’s taking so long?” 

He’s so shocked to see Lewis Snart he doesn’t anticipate the blast of cold that hits him until it’s too late.

 

**xxxiv.**

 

Len’s heart skips a beat when Lewis shoots Barry and he falls.

He wants to scream, to run, to kill Lewis with his bare hands, but he refrains when he sees the sleeves of his parka and the blue light that his gun emits. 

“Sorry, Barry,” he says, with his heart on his throat, and soldiers on, wishing with all his heart for the Flash to show up once and for all. He just wants this nightmare to end.

 

**xxxiii.**

 

“Lisa was safe! Why did you do that?” Barry knows the answer, but he hasn’t anything else to say. He kind of wanted to shoot the man, too.

“He broke my sister’s heart. Only fair I break his.” 

Barry stares at him and moves forward to take Len away, to drown out his sorrows with kisses and hot cocoa when he whispers, “Don’t."

Barry runs back to STAR Labs with a farewell kiss.

 

**xxxii.**

 

"There's good in you, Len."

"Barry, don't."

"No, Len, really. Just- think about it, okay? I have to go. Love you." 

Len sighs. "See you, Barry."

 

**xxxi.**

 

“So you mean, after you _travelled back in time twice,_ you opened a bunch of portals into an alternate reality and there’s a crazy speedster that’s trying to kill you? Again?” Len says, his voice as quiet as possible. He can’t afford the wrong people knowing about Barry’s relationship with him. 

Barry’s eyes shift. “Yeah.” 

“And you didn’t tell me before, _why?”_  

“I didn’t want you to worry!” Len watches Barry’s fingers fumble with the phone cord and his eye twitches.

“You were _paralysed_ , Barry!”

“But I was fine!” 

“That’s not the _point_ , Barry! You got hurt! That is not okay!” 

“I’ve gotten hurt before! And worse!”

“You could have died! If something went wrong you could have died and I can _not_ allow that!” 

“You’ve hurt me worse, Len! Why does this matter so much, huh?”

“That was different. You know that.”

“I don’t, Len." 

“Barry, look. I l- you can’t keep doing this, okay? We’re- I’m here to back you up on anything and I can’t do that if you don’t tell me this shit.” Len resists the urge to look behind him. 

Barry takes a deep breath and wills his tears away, feeling ridiculous and ashamed and so fucking happy, all at once.

“Okay, Len. Thank you.” 

Len sighs shakes his head, glancing at the police man behind Barry who’s eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Of course.”

 

**xxx.**

 

"Your dad was a dick." 

"Tell me about it."

 

**ixxx.**

 

"Zoom? Did he name himself or is Cisco running off steam?"

"You’re an asshole, Len."

 

**xxviii.**

 

"If you go alone like I know you’re planning to, you'll hurt yourself, Barry." 

"I’ll be fine, Len."

"Whatever you say."

 

**xxvii.**

 

"You’re late."

"Yeah..." 

"You’re wearing shades indoors."

"Yes." 

"Barry-" 

"Len, stop."

"I didn't say anything."

 

**xxvi.**

 

“Len? What are you doing here?” 

“Merry Christmas, Barry. Mardon broke me and Jesse out to kill you.”

 

** xxv. **

 

"Thank you for warning Barry, Snart. You saved his life."

"No problem, Detective. He _is_ my soulmate, after all. I am in no hurry to miss colours."

Joe scowls at him, but Len really couldn't be bothered.

 

**xxiv.**

 

Barry’s hands started shaking three hours before they’re due at Joe’s for their “Mandatory Monthly Family Dinner”.

Len thought this was honestly ridiculous, but then again, he thought a lot of things before what he will officially call The Most Awkward Dinner Of His Life.

Most of them, as he has learnt time and time again over the course of three excruciating hours, were wrong.

“Would you pass the potatoes?” he asks Joe. He’s not even trying anymore, really. It’s been an hour and a half and he already wants to run away to his own apartment and spend his renewed freedom in hiding.

He’s not going to, of course. That would ridiculous and, frankly, childish, which is _so_ not his style so he’s going to pretend he didn’t even think this and keep his cool, villain exterior, as he is expected to. 

Joe gives the potatoes to Barry and Barry gives them to him with a _look_. Len pretends he didn’t see it.

“So, Barry, got any interesting crimes lately?”

God bless Iris’s soul, Len thinks. He catches Eddie’s eye and shakes his head minutely.

“Ah, yes, actually! there was this one murder yesterday where the killer used maggots to-”

“We’re having dinner, Barry,” Joe snaps, and Len has to make the effort of a lifetime to stop himself from snorting out loud. Barry jumps beside him and his voice squeaks when he says, “Sorry!” 

Len really, really wants to cry. Just a little.

What a memorable Christmas Eve.

 

**xxiii.**

 

His hands shake, his palms sweat, and his eyes dart around nervously. He’s blushing from head to toe right now, which is really dumb, because he’s faced down countless villains and monsters and giant telepathic gorillas singlehandedly, so he _can do this._                                                                           

“Would you just say what you want to, kid? You’re making me antsy.” 

Maybe not.

“Ah, Len! Sorry, I just… yeah.” He scratches his head. _Giant telepathic gorillas,_ he thinks. 

“Barry?” Len asks, and this time his eyes search Barry’s, concerned. “You okay?” 

Barry looks down at the orange flowers beside Len’s boots, feels the weight of a ring inside his left fist. _He can do it._

“Do you need me to call Caitlin?” Len’s hand is now on his shoulder, warm and strong.

_Come on, come on._

“Hey, Barry, seriously, you okay? You’re not dying, are you?” Len sounds scared, now. Not obviously so, but one learns to read between the lines as the years go by.

“N-no, I, sorry, it’s just that…” he thinks for a second, and the drops to his knees in front of Len. The ground is wet and cold.

 _He’s your_ soulmate _. You can do this._

“Barry-”

“Uh, Len-” 

This is really not going according to plan, Barry thinks. for the most important moment on his life he surely is three seconds from puking.

Oh well. _Godspeed_.

“Oh, sorry.” Len frowns down at him. “Why are you on the ground?”

“Oh. Uh.. Len. Leonard Snart- shit, uh, Len! Len. Len? will you? oh, will you marry me? Please?”

_...Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._

He realises his knuckles are white from gripping the ring so tightly, so he forces himself to loosen them and show Len a delicate, platinum gold band.

Len laughs at him. His eyes crinkle and his breath hitches, and he _laughs_. 

Barry’s first thought is, _wow, rude._ Then his heart sinks into the ground, below his knees, and is trampled when Len takes a step forward and lowers himself much more gracefully onto the balls of his feet in front of him. 

And Barry is trying to figure out whether he should laugh, too, or run away crying (he’s leaning towards the latter option, literally, his equilibrium flaunting so he’s about to sit into his ankles).

Len’s eyes are watery.

“Took you long enough,” he says in his usual drawl, but his voice cracks at the end and his nose is red. 

Barry honest-to-god squeals.

 

**xxii.**

 

“We’ve run out of pasta sauce,” Barry announces, walking into the living room and plopping down into the couch heavily. 

“And that is a problem because…?” Len says, not taking his eyes off the television screen. 

“I want pasta!” Barry says, crossing his arms in an uncharacteristic move. Some would say he was… whining.

Len tells him so.

“I’m not whining,” Barry says, whining. “I’m just _annoyed_. I’m going to have to go to the supermarket _again_ , and I went yesterday, Len!”

“ _I_ went yesterday,” Len corrects him, just ‘cause he can. “And it’s not my fault you eat everything the minute it’s inside the fridge.”

Barry honest to god _stomps his foot_. Like if he was _six years old_ and Len just told him he _can’t have more ice cream_.

“Whining,” Len says, and smirks when Barry puffs his cheeks out and leaves him to the sound of Leonard McCoy yelling about something or other.

 

**xxi.**

 

“I was thinking-”

“Oh dear.” 

“Shush! Well, I know you don’t like your last name… and we’re getting married… and like you don’t have to say yes! and I obviously don’t want you to feel degraded or anything! We can hyphenate or I can take yours but I just-”

“Barry?”  
“Yeah.” 

“Are you asking me to take your last name?”

“…Yeah. I- I guess? Wait, no, no, I do. I am.”

Len chuckles. “I’d be honoured to, Barry.”

“Really?” 

“Yes. Leonard Allen has a good ring to it, don’t you think?” 

Barry falls a little more in love, right then.

 

**xx.**

 

“We should elope.”

Barry stops in his tracks. “What?” he says, looking over at Len, who continues walking without him. Their hands are stretched between them.

“Yeah. Let’s not tell anyone we’re getting married. Let’s just do it and deal with it after.” 

Barry continues walking because his arm starts to hurt and Len’s ring is rubbing against his fingers where they slip.

He mulls the idea over in his head. He’s been to plenty of weddings- Diggle and Lyla, Iris and Eddie, Caitlin and Ronnie- and the thought of so many people witnessing his legal binding to Len makes his stomach flip uncomfortably.

“Okay,” He says, and leans down to kiss Len’s cheek. “When?”

Len looks over to him, pleased. “Tonight?”

Barry smiles. “Tonight it is.”

 

**ixx.**

 

“I can’t help but notice the number of successful heists you pull has decreased exponentially over the past year.”

“It hasn’t.”

“Oh, but I believe it has!”

“No. It’s as it has always been.”

"Really! Because I was looking at a flowchart-”

“Flowchart? Barry what the _fuck_?” 

“- and numbers don’t lie, honey.” 

There is a beat of silence and candy wrapper static over the phone.

“…Shut up.”

“Okay, dear.”

 

**xviii.**

 

“Sorry to break it to you, but your coffee is fucking horrible.”

Barry freezes on the way out of the door, coffee cup in hand. “What are you doing up, Len?” he says. He looks at the clock on the microwave- 4:56AM.

“You’re noisy, Barry. Now, why are _you_ out of bed?”

“There was a-” he pauses to give a long, heaving yawn. “-there was a murder somewhere downtown. I have to go.”

Len frowns. “It’s our honeymoon,” he says.

Barry frowns, and his nose scrunches up with the intensity of it. “I know,” he says, “I’m sorry.” _This wouldn’t be happening if we had mentioned we got married,_ he doesn’t mention.

Len grunts. “You better be back by nine.” he gestures towards the coffeemaker. “And expect some actual, drinkable coffee by then. 

Barry smiles at him, soft, and speeds over to plant a chaste kiss on Len’s lips. “Promise,” he says, and the door bangs on his way out.

 

**xvii.**

 

“Barry, take off your shoes! I just finished cleaning the floor and don’t need you dragging all that mud inside.”

“Uh, sorry?”

Len huffs. “Do be. Now come on, go change before you catch a cold or something.”

 Barry laughs a little. “Of course, honey,” he mocks, and speeds away before Len can say anything.

 

**xvi.**

 

“I have business to attend to in Germany.”

“Business?” 

“Yes.” 

“Len…”

“Don’t worry, Barry. I’ll be okay. I promise.” 

Barry sighs. “come back to me?”

“Always.”

 

**xv.**

 

“Barry! you got a delivery. It’s in your lab.” 

“Huh? Ah, thank you, Patty.”

“Anytime!”

Barry was expecting a box. Not- this. 

 There’s a huge bouquet of bright flowers sitting on his desk, all of them so very colourful and all of them so very beautiful.

He grabs them with a wide smile, and a card falls out. He sets the flowers down carefully and leans down to grab the piece of paper, and his smile gets even broader when he sees it’s handwritten and signed,  _L.A.:_

 

_I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire._

_~_

 

The day after, there’s another bouquet with different flowers, and this time his card reads:

_I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. L.A._

_~_

 

He gets a bouquet every day for a week; every time they are different flowers, and every time they are different, oddly familiar words:

_I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself. L.A._

_~_

He walks in on Patty reading the cards he’s kept on his desk on the third day.

“Who’s L.A.?” She asks him. Her eyes look sad.

“He’s, uh. He’s my soulmate.”

Patty’s eyebrows go up, but she doesn’t look very surprised. “Really?” She asks. “Congratulations. He must love you very much.”

Barry smiles at her, blushing. “He does. Thank you, Patty.”

“He has a taste in literature, too,” She says, looking down at the cards again.

“What do you mean?” Barry asks, coming closer to look at the cards, too. 

Patty laughs. “See you later, Barry.”   

That day’s card reads,

 

_[and] Thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose from the earth lives dimly in my body. L.A._

_~_

Joe eyes the flowers suspiciously when he sees them.

“You should warm up to him, Joe,” Barry says, rolling his eyes. “He’s gonna be around for a long time.”

Joe huffs. “If I have so long, then let me get used to him at my own pace, son.”

Barry laughs.

_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. L.A._

_~_

Iris squeals when she reads them.

“This is so cute! Oh my god, I didn’t know he liked Neruda. Good taste.” 

Barry scrunches up his nose as he does. “Who? Patty said the same thing.”

Iris laughs. “He’s a poet. Len’s good for you, Bear,” her smile goes softer, more intimate, and Barry suddenly realises why he used to love her so much. “He really does care about you, doesn’t he?”

Barry looks down and pretends to look for something to hide his blush. “Yeah,” he says. “I know. He does.”

_I love you directly without problems or pride. L.A._

_~_

 

He asks Caitlin about Neruda. She says he was one of the best poets of the twentieth century, and that his poems are all melancholic and sensual, his words soft and meticulous.

Her eyes fill up with tears when she mentions him. Barry thanks her, but can’t stop thinking about it afterwards.

_I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not nor are you. L.A._

_~_

He gets to the station in a great mood. He’s early, he actually had breakfast, and he’s expecting another card from Len when he gets to his desk. But his mood is dampened a little when he sees no flowers and no card in the lab. 

He figures he’s just earlier than the delivery man.

The hours drag on and he waits and waits until he can’t anymore, and by then he’s sad and confused and also a little angry. He sighs.

He walks downstairs in a sour mood when he sees a man with the most ridiculous blond hair and green eyes he has ever seen step out of the elevator doors, right into the police station.

It takes him a second to register, but when it does, all his sorrows fade when he sees that familiar smirk on the face of a man that’s otherwise unrecognisable.

Barry doesn’t run towards him, exactly, but he does collide with Len with such a force he crushes the red roses Len holds out to him.

“Missed me?” Len asks in his ear, a laugh on his voice. Barry knows people are staring, but he doesn’t care.

“So much,” he says, and pulls his face away from Len’s shoulder to plant a long, relieved kiss onto his lips.

“Don’t _ever_ leave me for so long again, understood?” he says when he pulls away, to the sound of claps and cheers from his co-workers.

Len laughs. “Yessir,” he says, and kisses him again, and again, and again, just because he can.

 

_So close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams. L.A._

 

**xiv.**

 

“So you’re like… a superhero now?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, kid.”

“Oh my god, you totally are-”

“Shut the fuck up, Barry-”

“-we’re finally that super couple Iris was talking about-”

“Iris _what_?”

 

**xiii.**

 

"I'll see you soon."

Len kisses Barry one more time, on the nose, and smiles that little smile that is just for him. 

"Soon, scarlet. Promise."

He goes. 

 

**xii.**

 

Barry loves the idea of Len being a hero. He’s always known there was good in him, of course- he’d even gone as far as to yell it at him in a rage. But to see (or know) it being real makes his chest strain with the effort of trying to contain his heart.

They don’t talk often, but Barry’s doesn’t really give it much thought. He knows how wacky time travel can be; he doesn’t blame Len for not updating him on every single thing that happens. Or at all, really.

Really.

 

**xi.**

 

Cisco can’t believe him when Barry says that Len’s off to save the world. He doesn’t think anyone does, really, but he guesses that may be Len’s fault. And though it hurts, maybe they have a reason to.

But that doesn’t stop him from feeling personally offended. It’s actually quite ridiculous.

He’s just- he’s just incredibly proud of Len. And even if he worries he believes (he knows, he can’t allow himself to think otherwise) that Len is safe because he has his team and his friends with him, Stein and Sara and Ray and Kendra and Mick. He knows they’ll have his back. 

He knows. He _knows_.

 

**x.**

 

As much as Len would hate to admit it, he and Barry are too much alike.

He knows this. Oh god, does he know this.

 

**ix.**

 

The thing is, it was disturbingly easy to make the decision to knock Mick out.

He doesn’t stop and think of the repercussions his actions would have. He only sees Mick about to give his life for a cause _he_ dragged him into and his brain kicks into automatic; he lets Sara kiss him goodbye and he yells at them until they go, and it is then when he stops and it dawns on him- _shit_. He’s not gonna make it out. He’s not gonna make it out, and Barry’s gonna _kill_ him.

Len quietly apologises to Barry for not making up on the promise of coming back soon, soon, soon- and his heart breaks when he looks at the men that try to stop him. He doesn’t dare look back at Mick and Sara, he doesn’t dare think of the grief he will cause Barry and all broken promises he leaves behind: he can only muster a small smile and an apology the size of the world, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

 _Soon, scarlet_ , thunders inside his head like a clapper and he wants to say goodbye properly, but instead he says, “There are no strings on me." 

Then- darkness.

 

**viii.**

 

Barry is at the station when it happens. 

He’s just walking down the stairs, ready to take a much-needed coffee break from the case he’s been working on. He doesn’t think much of anything, happy to let his mind wander from grocery lists to past text messages, to the papers in his hand.

 There’s officers and a few other people minding around, and he waves at Joe when he catches his eye and Eddie smiles at him, making to walk towards Barry (probably to discuss dinner plans).

He blinks, like he has done so many times before, but then he opens his eyes and- he blinks again in confusion, because he swears that Eddie wore a blue suit today, not grey. And he blinks, and blinks, and blinks again, and his eyes fill with liquid because he can’t _see colour,_ only grey, grey, grey, and black and white and only that. He gasps and he shatters, drops the papers and his empty cup and it crashes loudly but he can’t hear it, only the rushing of his heart and the terrible emptiness of his chest, because all colour is gone and his vision is blurry with tears. 

He leans against the railing on the stairs and is vaguely aware of people asking if he’s okay- but of course he _isn’t_ , and he never will be again, because his _soulmate_ -

His _husband_ -

His _Len-_  

Is  _dead_.

He screams.

 

He screams and he cries, and he feels Joe's hands on his shoulders and the weight of Eddie’s stare. 

He absolutely breaks down right then and there, in the middle of the fucking _precinct_ , with his co-workers and a bunch of criminals all staring at him in sadness and wonder and pain. Joe's talking- Barry can't bother to hear him- but Barry can’t, he  _can’t breathe,_ and so he doesn’t try to- he stops being for a little while and just floats in his despair. 

When he feels his breathing slow considerably he wills himself to get up with fat tears still streaming down his face, and in his fragile bearings he pushes away from everyone and stumbles out and away of the precinct. 

Once he's outside, he runs. He at least has half a mind to get far enough that there may be few suspicions, and he goes and goes until he really doesn’t know where he is-  he doesn’t really stop to look around but he’s probably running in circles, because he’s fast and if he wanted to be somewhere he would have gotten there by now. he’s just thinking about how they didn’t have the chance to tell everyone they were married, and their plans for the future can be no more, and he was so excited for Len to be a hero like him he forgot to be scared.

His tears evaporate in the hot summer air that laps at his body, and he welcomes the pain in his legs after a while. He only does slow down when he feels so bleary he feels like he’s about to- 

He passes out. 

 

**vii.**

 

He doesn’t know where he is. 

 

**vi.**

 

He doesn’t know how, but Caitlin and Cisco find him, eventually. He wakes up on a gurney in STAR Labs and when they ask, he tells them what happened- no preambles, no excuses, no sugary coatings. He cries again (he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to stop), and even though they weren’t Len’s biggest fans they cry with him, too.

But only Caitlin holds his hand, understanding, loving, and so, so heartbroken. 

 

**v.**

 

He seems to not know a lot of things, these days.

 

**iv.**

 

He knocks on the door of Lisa’s Metropolis apartment in the morning. She answers after a few seconds and she looks confused but happy to have him there- they hadn’t had much time together since Snart senior died.

He'd really missed her.

“Can I come in?” He asks her, voice thick with tears, and she nods.

“Of course, Barry. What’s wrong? Where’s Lenny?”

“Lisa…”

 “What? No. Barry, no. He didn’t. He told me he wouldn’t. He _promised_!”

Barry’s heart breaks even more along with her voice. “I’m so sorry, Lisa,” he says, and they sit on the couch that just last week he and Len helped put there. “I’m so sorry.”

He has no tears left but he holds Lisa until she cries herself to sleep, still on that godforsaken couch. It still smells like that awfully fragrant shampoo Len uses only when he’s in Metropolis.

 

**iii.**

 

It doesn't hurt any less when they wake. 

Barry makes them breakfast and runs back to Central City with Lisa on his arms so she can spend a few days with Cisco; he doesn’t want her to be alone. 

He knows Len wouldn’t have wanted that.

 

**ii.**

 

Mick and Sara come the next day. Barry takes the day off work, citing personal issues, but he knows that the entire station knows what happened, or at least has a pretty god idea.

They come to Star Labs when he isn't running around stopping petty crimes to not think about _it._ They bring one of Len's spare parka, a phone, and a ring, gold and dented.

Sara smiles ruefully and hugs him when he can’t break down again. Mick pats his back and says, "Godspeed, kid." Barry hugs him, too, because he’s warm and smells like kerosene, the way Len used to whenever he came back from Mick's place or a job. It’s oddly comforting.

He pulls on the Parka and buries himself in it. He’s not sure he'll be able to take it off- he’s swimming in it, for Len's shoulders are (were, he forces himself to say, _were_ ) broader than his own- but he doesn't _care_.

It still smells like him.

And as he stares at himself in the mirror, naked and alone, he wishes he could see the colour that Len used to love so much one more time.

 

**i.**

 

 It gets easier to hide. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry *
> 
> The poem is Pablo Neruda's XVII Sonet from _A Hundred Love Sonnets_. 
> 
> An alternate, more solemn summary is: _In their fleeting moments of careful intimacy, Barry almost allowed himself to be fully, irrevocably happy since the day his mother died. But life comes and goes, and in the end he knows he should not have been foolish enough to believe that the light in his life would be more than a mere candlefire, burnt out in the shallower of breaths._
> 
> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> Kudos are food for the soul :D
> 
> comments? concerns? wanna say hi? message me [here!!](http://coolerthan0k.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> *not.


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